Find the Fallen Heaven
by smalljon
Summary: Magic. Despite knowing the truth of its existence, it is nothing but a distant dream for Shirou Emiya. However, when he gets unwittingly dragged into the Holy Grail War, he soon comes to realize that the only choice he has is to step forward and fight.


**Disclaimer: **Fate/Stay Night visual novel and its characters is a creation of Kinoko Nasu and Takashi Takeuchi. The copyright belongs to Type-Moon and other affiliate companies. This story is made for the author's personal enjoyment without the intention of seeking any kind of profits.

* * *

**Fight for Fate**

Chapter 1: _Home Alone_

* * *

Shirou found himself under the curious gaze of a middle-aged policeman. They were sitting face to face in a room in the police station that Shirou assumed to be the interrogation room. The policeman was holding a pile of papers in one hand and twirling a pen in the other; his hat lying on the corner of the table. They had been sitting in silence for half an hour or more.

Maybe the policeman was trying to find the right words, or maybe he was trying to make Shirou feel nervous. If it was the latter though, the policeman would be disappointed. Right now Shirou felt empty, nothing. Only the occasional stings brought by the bruises on his knuckles, face, and body that reminded him of reality.

"What's your name, son?" asked the policeman.

"Shirou. ...sir." he answered, more eloquent than he thought possible. "Shirou Emiya."

"I'll contact your home, Emiya-kun. Where do you live?"

"Northern Miyama, sir. But..." he trailed off. He wondered if the policeman would think he was lying if he told the truth.

"But what?" there was an edge in the policeman's voice.

Shirou decided to be honest. "Nobody will answer your call. I live alone."

The policeman frowned. The pen twirling stopped. "How old are you, Emiya-kun?" he asked, gentler than ever before.

"Eleven, sir," Shirou answered. He had never been sure about his own age as he could never recall his actual birth date. He thought of telling it, but he did not feel like talking anymore.

Another silence. It lasted only for five minutes this time.

"Can you tell me about your parents?"

Shirou looked down at the floor. The bruises on his jaw and near his left eye stung and he winced.

"My parents died in the fire four years ago. Now I'm adopted, but my father hasn't returned from his trip overseas."

"How long has he been on this trip?"

"Around four months... I think."

Maybe he should have let the policeman call home. Maybe his father had already returned during the time he had been away.

"Then... is there someone to check up on you from time to time? Like your father's relatives or your neighbors?"

Shirou thought about it. "There's Fuji-Ne..."

Once Shirou explained who this Fuji-Nee was, the policeman went pale. He left the room to talk with his colleagues and then returned with a cup of hot coffee for Shirou. Shirou would have preferred tap water, but he was reluctant to ask. He tried to take a sip and found that the coffee was too bitter to his taste.

"Someone from Fujimura family will come to pick you up later. Now, why don't we continue?"

And continue they did. The policeman began asking about the incident that brought Shirou to this room in the first place. A fight. Shirou had beaten up three other kids. One of them suffered from head injury that would require stitching.

"They pour dirty water on a junior, this Makoto-kun. He cried, but they wouldn't stop laughing at him. When I tried to talk them out, Touji-kun push me down and well... you know the rest."

The policeman rubbed the edge of his nose after hearing Shirou's explanation. He moved his eyes in circle, contemplating something. Shirou remembered seeing him a great deal fresher several minutes ago. Did his story made him weary? Why?

"Ah, I see. You are that kind of boy..." the policeman said. "Well, wanting to help a friend in need is good, Emiya-kun. But harming three others to do so... what do you think?"

Shirou had thought of it. "I was stupid," he said truthfully.

"Good. At least you know you were being stupid. People can't get smart unless they realize how stupid they are. Will you get smart, Emiya-kun?"

About fifteen minutes later, Taiga Fujimura and two members of Fujimura Group arrived at the police station. Fuji-Nee dropped her fist on his head and then hugged him, repeatedly asking him why he had done something stupid. Shirou apologized.

They had to fulfill several procedures before he could go home, but eventually he was back at his house. The sun had nearly set. The big traditional Japanese mansion was just as empty as when he had left it in the morning. Kiritsugu Emiya had not come back yet.

* * *

Two months went by without anymore big fuss. Shirou had visited all the kids he had had fought with and they all had agreed to make peace. And yet, Kiritsugu still had not returned home. Every single day passed with Shirou growing more and more anxious. He could feel something bad was looming over the horizon. He felt it was coming closer and yet he did not know what it was nor when exactly it would hit him.

He knew and yet he did not know any single thing.

It was a Monday in the beginning of September. By this time, Shirou had become so dreaded by the vague feeling. He could practically taste the fear that he hardly had the will to do anything. He became a zombie, repeating the same routine over and over just because it was the only thing that made him realize he was still alive.

"Shirou Emiya, someone is here to pick you up."

His homeroom teacher announced, interrupting a math lesson. The one coming for him was Fuji-Nee. She was very unlike Fuji-Nee. She did not talk much and her demeanor did not come anywhere near cheery and energetic like usual. In fact, she was close to tears, clearly holding them back to appear strong.

"Come with me. They will explain it all to us."

"Explain what?"

Fuji-Nee told him in a very quiet and croaked voice. She sobbed once, but quickly wiped away her tears and ushered him to walk. Numbly, Shirou nodded and walked with her. A car driven by the same guy from Fujimura Group that had helped Shirou months ago brought them to the same police station. There, the same policeman was waiting for them. This time he did not twirl his pen although he did hold it in his hand.

"Emiya-kun, I'm truly sorry. We received an information that your father, Kiritsugu Emiya, has been found dead."

The policeman told him something he already knew. Shirou only nodded in response.

Explanations regarding the circumstances of Kiritsugu's death flowed from the policeman's mouth. Apparently, he had been found somewhere in the middle of a heavily snowing prairie in a northeast European country by some locals hunting for moose. He had frozen to death without any single ID on him. The local authorities had checked all around the country for leads, and from a registration form of an obscure hotel, they found out who he was.

Shirou listened but said nothing. He felt he was in a trance the whole time.

One by one, people he knew and people he did not know offered their condolences. Raiga Fujimura squeezed his shoulders gently but firmly. The policeman and fellow police officers at the station tried to lift his spirit. The members of Fujimura Group treated him like the did a high-ranking member; kneeling and all other formalities that would normally make him uncomfortable.

Fuji-Nee hugged him tightly, unable to speak of anything other than muffled sobs.

When the night fell, Shirou found himself sitting on the veranda of his house. No, it was the house Kiritsugu had left behind.

He absentmindedly looked up at the full moon, thinking it was brilliant.

And then, all the days he had spent together with Kiritsugu Emiya flashed behind his eyes.

They often played board games together when things got boring. Shirou often lose because his play was too straightforward. Kiritsugu had tried to cook several times only to create inedible dark matter and Shirou had to be the one who makes steams coming out of the kitchen since then. They tried out many things together: kendo, fishing, hunting, sumo wrestling, poetry. Kiritsugu sometimes talked about magic. Not the sleight-of-hand gimmicky magic. The real deal. The making of real miracle.

Shirou liked the stories about magic the best. He had asked and begged Kiritsugu to teach him some, but his father always refused.

And now, he could not beg Kiritsugu to teach him anything anymore.

Shirou did not remember the last time he had cried. He might as well never have. Even back then, when the inferno was closing in him and his life was an edge away from leaving him, he had not cried. He thought he had forgotten how to cry. But he began to cry now. His tears flooded out unbidden, his breath painful and his nose wet both in and outside.

The night, softly bathed in moonlight, was the only one to hear.

End of Chapter

* * *

**Author's note**: Rereading Fate/Stay Night and its spin-offs and revisiting my old hobby that is writing fictions brought me to write this A lot of fanfictions have been made about Shirou leveling up his magic before the Holy Grail War, so I got this epiphany, "What if he never learnt any damn thing at all?" Of course, instant death is the answer. But I keep thinking about it, about why, how, and what, and after several days, a story that I found compelling had formed in my head.

So, tell me what you think. Tell me what I can improve; spelling, grammar, characterization, story direction, anything. Just be nice, and I'll be sure to listen. Thanks for reading, see you in the next chapter.


End file.
